Anything So Marvelous
by Scarletquillraven
Summary: Elizabeth has her first child. Oneshot. Sort of humorous at the beginning, more thoughtful later.


**Good morning/evening/night, my fine readers! Here we are, finally: a fanfic of mine that has nothing to do with the Phantom of the Opera. Not that there's anything wrong with PotO, but it is nice to post about something else. I've wanted to write something about PotC, but have until this summer I've used the excuse "the series isn't over yet." Well, now that the series has been finished (or is it?) for the past few months, I guess I can't really put it off anymore.**

**And thus, said oneshot:**

I suppose I should be happy. I always imagined this moment would be joyous, full of smiles and happiness. Then why am I so frustrated?

Perhaps the reason for that is because Susan Porter from next door has been screaming "you can do it"s in my ear for the past four hours and the midwife seems to think I'm not trying my best.

"Try, Miss Turner! You're not listening to what I'm telling you to do!"

"I keep telling you I'm not a 'miss'!" I'm quite tired of the midwife blaming me for everything. I wonder if she's a virgin.

"Listen to Mrs. Justen, Lizzy! I know you can do it!" There are times when I wonder why I became friends with Susan. Sweet as she is, she doesn't seem to understand some very basic things. One such thing is the fact that childbirth is painful. And long. And having childish encouragements like "I believe in you" get very tiring at around the second hour of hearing them nonstop. Especially if the second hour starts at around three in the morning.

"Now, push again, Miss Turner!" I don't bother to correct her. It feels like the little bastard is pummeling my insides.

"Ooo! I think it's working!" Susan sounds like she's a ten-year-old watching some amazing magic trick. "Surely it can't be long now!" Oh, great, merciful God above, strike Susan dumb!

"You're doing well, Miss! Push again please."

"Did you hear that Lizzy? Did you? You're doing well! Isn't that grand? Did you hear what she said, Lizzy?" No, Susan, I'm deaf.

"Just a few more, Miss, and it'll be out. Breathe, Miss! Don't forget that!" YOU try breathing, Mrs. Porten, next time you have to pass a small boulder, and we'll see how YOU do.

"I think I see the head! You're close, Lizzy! I know you can do it!" Well that's maddeningly unhelpful.

"Listen to Miss Porter!"

"Listen to the midwife, Lizzy!"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP?" My head is absolutely pounding. I'm exhausted. I'm hungry. I'm thirsty. And this agony won't stop . . .

"Oh my goodness! Look at that!" . . . and you're still talking to me.

"Here, we are, Miss Turner! One last go, now! Here we go!"

. . . It's stopped. I open my eyes. My body doesn't hurt anymore. My headache has already fading away. They've actually shut up. How perfectly strange! I take a minute to catch my breath, wondering why all these wonderful things have finally happened.

And at the exact moment, the silence is ripped open by a loud wail. But it's a strange sort of scream. It's not one of pain, or grief, or shock, or sadness, or fear. Rather, it's a wail of life. A second or so later Mrs. Justen speaks.

"Congratulations, Elizabeth! It's a boy!" She's by my side, holding a little crying bundle. I'm shaking like mad now, trying to sit up. Finally I manage and take the baby myself.

For a few minutes, all I can do is stare. It's so amazing, really. He's so small, but so detailed. I can see the unique pink of his gums. His fingers are so tiny, too, yet he already has fingernails. His eyes are a sky-blue colour. I don't believe such a beautiful thing came out of me, but I know he did.

"He's gorgeous!" Susan is cooing beside me. "What will you name him?"

I hadn't really thought about that. But it doesn't take long for me to decide. "William." I announce. "William, like his father."

"A fine choice, Miss Turner." The midwife is collecting her things. "A great shame Mr. Turner is so far away. He'd be right proud, he would."

"I'm proud, Lizzy!" Susan pipes up. "I would sail all the way home to see this little thing." She smiles affectionately at my son.

I wish they hadn't brought Will into the conversation, though that's really my fault. They think he's far away, sailing with a merchant ship in the orient or someplace. I certainly can't tell them the truth. I would probably be sent away to some asylum in England if I told anyone. I've missed him horribly these past months. So much has changed: I've moved to this new town, on an island where no one knows my name. I've been living off some money I collected from our family's fortune in Port Royal, and I've been all alone in my new house. Newly married couples are supposed to learn about making their own household and raising children together. But I've had to take vague advice from local women who don't believe Will exists. They talk about me all the time, I know they do, and Susan's the only one who ever bothers to defend me. It's the sort of thing I would have gossiped about too in the past: woman with an unseen husband (and no wedding ring) moves into a place where nobody knows her, and gives birth nine months later. I'm the juiciest story they've heard for a long time.

And here I am, cradling my firstborn. Alone. Yes, Susan is right next to me, and Mrs. Justen is across the room, but they're not Will. Will is in a world that no sane citizen would ever believe in. He never even knew I was expecting a child. I wonder if he's thought about being a father. Does he miss me like I miss him? Surely he must. What will he do when I see him next, and William Turner the third is by my side? I wish more than anything that he was here right now.

"Lizzy? Why do you look so sad?"

"Miss Turner?" it baffles me that I'm still being called "Miss". But I don't care so much any longer, for whatever reason. "You call me if you need any help in the next few days."

"Thank you." I say "Your pay is on the table in the kitchen."

"I'll take good care of her, Mrs. Justen!" Susan calls after her. I am happy that's she's here, now that she is no longer trying to be encouraging. "I'm proud of you, Lizzy." She beamed at me. "And look at him. I've never seen anything so marvelous in my life!"

William's sleeping now, not making a sound. "He is marvelous, isn't he?" I know I sound like an older woman fawning over her grandchild, but I am glowing with joy inside. I still have trouble believing he's my son, and that I'm his mother.

"It's almost dawn." Susan says. "I may as well stay for a while. If you want me to, of course."

"We'll probably be sleeping mostly." I laugh, though it's true. I've heard all newborn babies do is eat and sleep, essentially. And I'm in need of some sleep myself. I didn't get a wink at all last night, and I feel like I've just ran around the coast a dozen times. Which reminds me; "Susan, can you fetch me some water. I'm parched."

"Oh yes! I should have thought of that! I'll be right back." My friend scurries off. I chuckle, wondering how she has any energy after a night like that. I jump a little when William lets out a cry again. I realize he's had quite the night, too.

It was, after all, quite a night.


End file.
